Escape
by autumnfluteness
Summary: Different tales of young, dangerous women who find themselves in strange situations everywhere they go.
1. Making a Woman Shout

"You fools. We are the true sons and daughters of Skyrim! We'll all fight 'till our last breath!"

"Hoorah! For Skyrim!"

Blood. Dead Nords and Imperials lying everywhere. My blade is covered in Imperial blood, my body completely drained of any energy I possessed. Few of us are left, it seems. I look down at my arm, a large gash is bleeding profusely. Sheathing my ebony sword, I sit on a rock and use what knowledge I have in the restoration arts to heal the wound as much as I can.

The only other thing I remember is a wild yell and a sharp pain in my back.

"Get up, you filthy Khajiit." I feel someone hit my side with something hard.

Fluttering my eyes, I realize I don't know where I am.

Oh, gods, the stench... Blood… Ugh, and my back… Damn, what's happened? Nines bless me… I'm covered in nothing but blood and vomit, my fur matted with the disgusting mess. The smell of death is all around me. Another stab of pain hits my leg.

"Are you deaf? Get up, cat."

Somehow I get to my feet and manage to clear my head enough to understand what's happened to me. I'm in a prison… Divines, how did I…?

A very muscular, dark-haired Imperial man grabs me by the arm, pulling me from my cell with a wicked grin. Raising his hand, he slaps me across the face.

"Damn Rebel. You'll get what you deserve, trust me. I'll make sure of that. Go cry to Ulfric, the 'True High King.'" Snickering, he drags me over to a wall where chains hang. A table is nearby, instruments of all sizes lay across the top and beside it. Instruments of torture.

I try to fight back. It's to no avail. He slaps me again and chains me up.

"Hm, you know, you aren't have bad looking for a Khajiit… And I just love to see a woman like yourself in pain, calling out to no one. No one can hear you scream. How does that make you feel, hm?"

"You won't get away with this. I'll kill you slowly. Painfully. I'll make you regret ever crossing paths with me." A look of pure satisfaction washes across his face.

"Ah, a feisty one, you are. I happen to adore those types." The man reaches down to grab at me.

"Don't you dare, pig."

"Oh, and how would you stop me? You're weak. You can't fight. Surrender."

"Alright, alright…" I smirk to myself, a plan brewing in my mind.

"Giving up that easily, hm? That's what I like to hear. Now…" He walks over to the table, looking at all of the whips and tools in front of him. Picking up a terribly painful looking whip, he turns back to me and smirks. "Scream for me, little Khajiit."

"Hm, I know you want me to shout for you, filthy Imperial," I say with a seductive tone.

"Finally catching on, are we? Good, good…"

Whips cracks. More blood.

"Come on, shout, I want to hear your cries. Suffer."

"Oh, I'll shout. But you'll be the one suffering, you poncy little milk-drinker."

"Excuse me, is that a threat?" he questions, stepping closer to me, our faces nearly touching.

"Of course. FUS RO DAH!" My Thu'um ricochets off all the walls, sending the Imperial guard flying and knocking him against the opposite wall.

He crawls around frantically. "You- You're the Dragonborn! Dovahkiin!"

"Yes. Now, am I going to have to blow you to Sauvonguard or are you going to let me go?"


	2. Assassin Love

"Aliyns… Aliyns… Aliyns… tsk tsk tsk…" The fair-haired assassin shook his head. "What am I to do with you? We've been hunting you a year's time now, you know that?"

"Oh, cut to the chase, bastard."

"You _are_ aware of our contract, aren't you, Miss Swordhand? You pledged loyalty to our cult, to do as the great Boethiah commands us to do."

"Oi, yeah , yeah, yeah, '_I pledge to the Ebony Hearts to serve her grace Boethiah in all that is right in the name of battle.' _I said the oath, yeah, but I just wanted the mail, in all honesty. So give it a rest, Adotlin, I'll be on my way soon enough, if you'd be so kind as to get your filthy hands off me."

"Ah, feisty as always, aren't you? You know, I always liked that about you…" Adotlin reaches out to caress my cheek, unfazed by the dirty look shot at him.

"Yes, yes, I know, 'I'm so beautiful, you love the way I look after a kill, how blood spatters truly compliment my eyes.' Just set me free, lad, no one has to know you've found me. We can just forget about this whole incident and I'll just disappear…" I trail off as the man puts a finger on my lips.

With a devilish smirk he continues his rant. "Oh, no, no, no, not so easily can you just… disappear. I looked for you for so long. So many nights I spent out in all kinds of weather and went through all seven hells just to get a trace of where you'd gone. Oh, ho-ho, I'm not losing you that easily _ever again. _If I can't keep you as a member of our family, you'll just be my personal… hm, depends on how I feel, I presume… But you shall be hidden away in my chambers in the highest tower of the hideout for me to enjoy. Do you like the sound of that, Aliyns? Would you enjoy it, my dear?"

"I'd rather have a frost troll set on me."

"That could be arranged, sweet. Either you serve me… or you die."

"Looks like I don't have much of a choice." I mutter as he loads me into his wagon, freeing my hands of their bonds and leaving my feet in shackles.

"You should be grateful I'm allowing you to live, especially as my personal lover. I've been told that I'm blessed in more ways than just my ability to kill and good looks."

"Oi, seven hells…" I roll my eyes. "Thank you, dearest Adotlin, for letting me survive." I retort sarcastically .


End file.
